Prologue
Pale hazel eyes opened to a white tile ceiling.
Not a single thought took focus in the fog of her conscious presence, as
if she had no past, no identity, no reality except within this evil
dream. She stirred uneasily, tender flesh abrading against a rough wood
surface.
A nearby door closed, sounding heavy and solid,
sending the gossamer hand of an obscene breeze caressing her body like the
lingering touch of a predatory hand. She writhed in protest, sensing in her dissipating
stupor something seriously amiss.
Why was she, of all things, naked?
A wall switch clicked, dimming one light. A chain
rattled, sending another flaring to life directly above her. Heat poured down upon her bare skin. Blinded, she recoiled violently, twisting
to one side to curl into a tight defensive ball. Creaking windings of
coarse rope tugged hard against her ankles and wrists and held her fast,
flat on her back, wrists stretched above her head, ankles held alarmingly
apart.
She went rigid with horror
and held her breath, hoping her assailant might fail to take notice of
her, but pain lanced through knotted muscle and her heart pounded
violently in her chest. Off to one side, a crossbar clattered into place with grim
finality.
Heavy footsteps thudded closer. A dark presence
loomed over her, a black silhouette against the glare, but bringing into
view the glass eye that glimmered alongside her bound right foot.
Her
eyes widened in horror. A profound déjà vu sleuthed through her like
ice. She recognized the lens of glass. This moment had happened before, many times
before, like a reflection in a mirror facing a mirror, receding into
infinity. She knew exactly the horror this night will bring. A lost soul
catching its first glimpse of an undeserved hell would not have reacted in
greater mortal terror. She sucked air into her lungs…
…and she screamed.
A doe sleeping in a grass nest at the edge of town
raised its head in alarm. Nearby, a deeper, far more pertinent shadow in
the night paused in dismay. Prey had been selected and stalked to this
point in time, an ideal specimen, small and slender like the others, with
dark eyes, a wide Slavic face, and pouting lips to break a man's heart.
Tonight was to have been the culmination of many nights of growing
bloodlust. How unfortunate this alarm at the last hour. How ironic that
she would cry out now, so close to being given good reason to do so.
The presence pondered a change in plans. It would be
prudent to wait for another time and another opportunity to continue.
Neighbors awakened by the noise would be slow to drift back to sleep and
quick to sense further disturbance in the night.
The presence sighed in resignation. No matter. Her
petty fears would pale against the far more terrible reality awaiting
her. The satisfaction will be worth the wait for the right moment, the
safe moment, as it had been many times in the past, even if the
gratification, as intense as it was, never lasted long enough.
The shadow turned away and retreated into the
countryside. Enough had been accomplished this night. Important
diversions have been set in motion and one of two surviving threats
forever silenced.
Growing hunger, insatiable hunger, could be held at
bay just a little while longer.
